Baby Boom Boom Ca Ca Ha Ha!

What I tol' you?

Coming home from yesterday’s event in New Orleans, I was reflecting on how many clever, downright hilarious, signs and slogans I’d seen in a couple of hours, and thinking of how demonstrably (ratings, sales, all the invisible hand stuff) worse right-wing comedic efforts do compared to “liberal” ones, I came to a similar conclusion to that of kossack RobertEnders in his piece Democrats have more free speech rights than Republicans. 

Democrats are free to admit our representatives’ flaws. We ain’t all in on nobody and anyone, including our own, is fair game for a good ribbing or bad scolding. 

In the religious-cult-cum-emotional-support-group that is today’s Republican Party, however, there is a vast, ever-expanding library of Things We Don’t Talk About involving the current president. There are truths that all in the cult know but cannot ever speak.

As Sensei Homer observed, to be truly funny, it must be true.

Because today’s Republicans follow an abused child who never grew up, they cannot know the pleasure of adult humor, which embraces the mea culpa and self-played sad trombone. Their humor is that of the crib, where, Freud reminds us, the only symbol of power is poop, where one may literally shit on one’s perceived enemies and let out a gleeful, pre-verbal cackle at the accomplishment.

It should surprise no one that the president’s response to a nation’s criticism would prove to be a toddler’s fantasy of riding fighter jets filled with feces to rain on the meanies. I’m surprised he didn’t order Miller or whoever to have him ride the last turd down, waving his crown like Slim Pickins waving his hat in Strangelove.

What is saddest is that there is not a single embarrassed grownup in the house trying to cover the mess while apologizing to polite company. I can almost hear Abe and Teddy shaking their heads, saying, “Ain’t that some shit?”